Chef's Table Confessional
by seeleybaby
Summary: After Dr. Wyatt's advice re: his marksmanship test works, Booth asks him to meet him every week for advice. Dr. Wyatt agrees. One chapter per episode starting with Dwarf in the Dirt. Hope to make this a continuing series for the life of the show.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Everyone! How's everybody doing? I know I haven't posted here in a long time, and I haven't been writing much fiction. I did a big Non-fiction BONES project the past few months called the 100 Days of Bones, which you can check out if you want. **

**Anyways, but what I have been doing are these little one shots per episode, with Booth visiting with Dr. Wyatt, post Dwarf in the Dirt. I just think Booth needs someone he can talk to, someone who will tell him the truth. I hope you enjoy these. They aren't too long, each one, but hopefully they are in character.**

**Let me know what you think!**

**~Seels**

**Dwarf in the Dirt: The proposal for advice**

**Saturday evening…**

"Whoa!" Booth hooked his hips in, hitching up onto his toes to avoid a near facial collision with a platter of what he hoped was chicken. He scanned the kitchen for Gordon Gordon, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes widened with the search.

"Agent Booth!" the small shout rang above the clatter and grease-hissing, over the slap of towels against lazy butts and the hum of excitement.

Booth's eyebrows rose as he mapped out a path from himself to the former Dr. Wyatt. He shrugged a shoulder and shoved his way in. "Look, chef… you've gotta do it again. What you said. It worked, and…"

"Of course it worked" Wyatt bragged, turning away and shouting near obscenities toward the wait staff. "But if it worked so well, then why are you here?"

"Well…" Booth rested his lean hips against the counter. "I was kind of hoping we could talk again, you know…about some other stuff."

Wyatt backed away and motioned toward the cacophony of sounds. "I'm afraid not, Agent Booth. Saturday nights are far too busy. It's just not possible."

Booth blinked and bit his bottom lip again, looking around. He pulled in a breath through his nose and then nodded, accepting the answer. "Okay. No problem. I got it."

He turned to leave and almost made it out the door before something hit him in the back of the head. He felt his hair and then looked to his feet to see a rather sorry looking shrimp. One eyebrow arched, he turned toward the thrower. Wyatt opened his palms in Booth's direction.

"Saturday nights are the most heavenly hells, but Sunday mornings are quiet. Come in tomorrow. At 10. Not a minute before."

Booth's mouth curved up on one side in a small smile. He lifted two fingers in a salute and backed out the door. "10."

…the next morning…10:01 AM

"Knock, knock" Booth motioned at the door. "Is it safe?'

"Safe?" Gordon Gordon scoffed. "Of course not, but please, please enter."

Booth grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked over to the counter, sliding into the stool that Wyatt offered. "So what was so important before 10 AM; you've got all your girlfriends hanging out in the back or something?"

"Mmmm…quite" Wyatt countered with a wry grin. "Almost as good…" he tapped a finger against his mug. "Tea and the New Yorker."

Booth chuckled and nodded, accepting the coffee that Dr. Wyatt poured for him. "Ah, getting better."

"Yes, well…" the chef sighed. "Apparently it's essential to managing a successful kitchen. I still despise the stuff, but I must admit that it does turn my rather lethargic staff into cuisine machines."

"Cuisine machines" Booth nodded and set his cup on the counter, circling the bottom with the tip of his finger. "I like that."

Wyatt eyed him for a moment. "I am sure you did not come all this way to practice rhyme, Agent Booth. Tell me, what is on your mind."

Booth's eyes flew up, and for a moment, he shrugged. "Well, I don't know. It's just…you know, like I said last night. What you said worked."

"Ah…so you excelled at your shooting, is that it?"

Booth shifted in his seat. "Yes. Bull's-eye, baby." He motioned in front of him with his index finger, straight as an arrow. "No question."

"Hmmm…yes, yes." Dr. Wyatt nodded. "And your lovely partner, she was…"

"Yeah, she was there" Booth cleared his throat and rested one elbow against the edge of the counter. "And that was nice." His tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he remembered the silent support she had offered him.

Gordon Gordon watched him for a moment before pouring himself another cup of tea. "Well, I do admit to being somewhat gratified by my ability to make a good suggestion, however, I fail to see why it was so urgent for you to tell me this."

"No, that's not…" Booth interrupted. "I mean, I wanted to tell you, but that's not why I'm here. I'm here because, I…" He cleared his throat. "I'm wondering if you would be willing to, you know…give me advice and stuff."

"Advice" Wyatt repeated. "And stuff?"

"You know…" Booth's brow furrowed. "The 'be a man' stuff, and what I need to hear, all of that."

"I see."

Booth waited as silence took over between them. Just as he was about to shrug and say forget it, Dr. Wyatt answered.

"And why are you not consulting with the young Dr. Sweets?"

"Sweets, he's…he's FBI, so his loyalties are also to that, and he is also loyal to Bones, and--"

"And I'm not?" Gordon Gordon interrupted.

"Nah, that's not what I'm saying. I know you care about Bones, too. I'm just saying that…it would really be nice to have someone to talk to. Sweets is great, sure, but still, we work together, and besides…"

"Besides what, Agent Booth?"

Booth's jaw tightened and his eyes darkened before he ran the edge of his fingernail against the groove of the counter. "And Sweets is young. It just would be nice to have someone older to talk to. Someone I can run ideas by, and get advice. That kind of thing. I don't really have that in my life, and…"

He didn't look up, but just kept his eyes on his finger, up and down the edge of the counter.

"Well, in that case" Wyatt said softly. "I accept. How do Sunday mornings such as this suit you?"

Booth's lips softened and he looked up. "I'd say it suits me just fine." He slid off his stool and walked toward the door, but at the last minute turned around. "And I'll bring my own coffee from now on."

His grin was wide and genuine and he laughed when Dr. Wyatt flipped him the bird.


	2. Foot in the Foreclosure

**Foot in the Foreclosure**

"Ah, my young friend" Dr. Wyatt smiled as Booth entered the kitchen a couple weeks later. "And how have you been?"

Booth smiled and slid into the same stool as the week before. "Not bad, not bad. But I gotta tell you, Bones is plenty pissed that she's not invited."

"Is that so?" the chef poured himself a cup of tea. "So therefore you must have told her why you were meeting with me?"

"What?" Booth snorted. "Yeah right. I just told her that we were meeting for coffee. I didn't tell her about the advice; are you kidding me?"

"And why would I be kidding you, Agent Booth?"

Booth's eyebrows rose. "Seriously? Come on, you know Bones. She'd have some anthropological reason for whatever she wanted to talk about." His lips curled up in a smile at the thought.

"Yes…" Wyatt's lips curved up in wry thought. "And how are things going on that front? Hope. Patience?"

Booth leaned forward, pressing his elbows to the counter. He shrugged a shoulder and blinked a few times as if remembering something particularly nice. "It's going okay. " He smiled again. "You know, Bones can be really nice when she wants to be."

"When she wants to be?" Gordon Gordon interrupted. "How so?"

"Well…" Booth sat up straight. "Like with my grandfather. With Pops, she was really nice, and I mean, they got along great. Like, too great, sometimes."

"Ah…what do you mean by that?"

Booth eyed him. "I don't know…they almost…it was almost like they ganged up on me. Not in a bad way, just…they just really got along, that's all."

"Right, but you make it sound like she was _acting_ that way. For your benefit, perhaps?"

"What?" Booth frowned. "No, it wasn't like that. _Bones_ isn't like that. It was more like…more like…she was…" he sighed. "I don't know. Just more relaxed, I guess. She was really comfortable. She was more herself, but the relaxed, easygoing part of her."

"I see" Dr. Wyatt nodded. "And why do you think that is?"

Booth's eyebrows rose. "I don't know."

"You don't?" Dr Wyatt asked him. "You don't think that perhaps she might have been more relaxed and…_herself_, as you put it, because she feels that way around you?"

Booth was quiet for a moment, and he took a sip of his coffee. "I don't know. Maybe. It's possible. But it's _also_ possible that she just liked Pops because he's grandfather-y, and she's never really had that."

"Hmmm…" Dr. Wyatt narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I suppose that's possible as well." He shrugged a shoulder. "Well, I'm sure you know best. Of course, it's also possible that the reason they got on so well is because they have something important in common."

"Oh yeah?" Booth asked. "What's that?"

Dr Wyatt tilted his head to the side and just looked at Booth.

"Who, me?"

The chef smiled. "Quite."

"Huh" Booth shrugged. "I guess…I mean…it's _possible_. Anything's possible."

"Yes…" Dr. Wyatt drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Anything indeed."


	3. Gamer in the Grease

**Gamer in the Grease**

"Ah, Agent Booth! Come in, come in," Dr. Wyatt motioned with his hand as Booth slung his leather jacket over his shoulder and entered the kitchen. "And how are you this morning?"

Booth nodded and slid the box of doughnuts he'd brought across the counter.

"Blasphemy" Dr. Wyatt shook his head as he opened the lid to the pastries. "Bringing food to a chef. In his own kitchen, no less."

Booth just smiled and waited, and then chuckled when Gordon Gordon growled slightly before picking up a doughnut with extra sprinkles. "Ah…that's what I thought" Booth grinned.

"Shut up, you. Every man has a weakness."

"And yours is sprinkles, apparently." Booth smirked.

"And yours is a genius brunette." Gordon Gordon rose to the challenge.

Booth fairly choked as he leaned forward, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, come now, good man." Dr Wyatt shook his head. "Let's not pretend here. After all, isn't that what this is about?"

Booth bit the inside of his cheek and looked away. "I guess."

"Right. So…what's on your mind this week?"

Booth clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Okay. So let's do this. Let's talk Bones. You know…did you know that she is just as competitive about a video game as she is about everything else?"

"And you're surprised by this?"

"Well…" Booth grinned. "I guess not. Man, you should have seen her. First of all, I totally destroyed her."

"Ah…" Dr. Wyatt interrupted. "Didn't let her win, hmmm?"

"Are you kidding me?" Booth laughed. "Yeah, right. She'd be more annoyed by that than losing."

"Touche" Dr. Wyatt smiled. "Continue."

"Although…" Booth felt cocky. "She was plenty annoyed. Which is awesome."

When he laughed again, Gordon Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. So you enjoy annoying her. It turns you on, so to speak?"

Booth stopped laughing. "What? No, I mean…come on."

Dr. Wyatt just laughed at him and took out another doughnut for himself. "We all have our weaknesses."

Booth eyed him for a moment, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek before he chuckled self consciously, even as he inched the box of doughnuts toward himself.


	4. Goop on the Girl

Goop on the Girl

"Ho, ho, ho!" Booth called as he knocked on the door to the kitchen. "I come bearing gifts."

Dr. Wyatt smiled as Booth entered and handed him a bottle of scotch. "Oooh…excellent taste, sir."

Booth grinned. "Thanks. That's from me _and_ Bones, by the way."

"Oh? And how is the lovely Dr. Brennan?"

"She's good. She's good" Booth nodded, taking off his coat.

"And still annoyed that we're meeting like this?" Dr. Wyatt asked. He eyed the scotch and then shrugged. "Ah, to hell with it. I'm in the Christmas mood."

Booth chuckled as he watched Gordon Gordon pull down two dark glasses and open the scotch before pouring a glass for each of them. "Nah, Bones…she doesn't seem annoyed, which is kind of strange. In fact, when I told her about meeting you this morning, she just shrugged and said it sounded like important guy to guy conversation."

"And that is strange how?"

Booth downed his glass in one drink, ignoring Dr. Wyatt's raised eyebrow. Well, hell, since they were talking about it. "It's just…like this. Sometimes I think Bones doesn't really…think of me as man, you know?"

The chef's other eyebrow rose to match the first. "Surely you must be joking."

"I'm not joking" Booth answered and set his glass down on the counter. "Seriously, you should see the way she acts around me sometimes."

"Oh, I do" Dr. Wyatt mumbled under his breath. He cleared his throat and poured Booth another drink. "But very well, let's hear it. How on earth could you possibly think that she doesn't see you as a man?"

Booth's neck flushed a bit and he looked into his glass. "Well, like for example, the other day, I was covered in evidence from a crime scene, and she had to remove my clothing."

"Um…hold on there a moment, please." Dr. Wyatt held up a hand. "_She_ removed _your_ clothing?"

"Yeah" Booth shrugged. "But it was in the lab, and she was just gathering the evidence she said. I mean, she was totally clinical. Not that I don't admire her work ethic or anything, but…"

The room was silent for a moment.

"I see…" was all Dr. Wyatt said. He paused and then pulled in a deep breath. "So you must have other examples. Perhaps when you compliment her, she doesn't return the favor?"

"Compliment her? On what, like her…hair or something? Come on, she's my _partner_."

"Right…" Dr. Wyatt pursed his lips together. "But what exactly does that have to do with it?"

"Seriously?" Booth wiped his mouth. "You're serious."

When Dr Wyatt shrugged a shoulder, Booth's eyes narrowed.

"Come on, you worked for the FBI. You know exactly what I'm talking about. She's my partner. There are certain _lines_ that can't be crossed."

"Ah, yes. And you both must have discussed those at length, then. So, obviously, you both agreed what is and is not appropriate for your partnership. For example," he held up his gift of scotch. "Buying gifts together for friends, that is appropriate. But not admiring one another?"

"Well…" Booth squirmed on the barstool. "It's not so much that we discussed it. I mean…I mentioned a line, once, and she said she understood, but…"

"Precisely" Dr. Wyatt pointed at Booth. "So, let me ask you this. If you are noticing her as a woman, but pretending not to, what's to say she isn't feeling the same about you? Perhaps she is just respecting your boundary. Your 'line', as you called it."

Booth's eyes lowered to the counter, and he tapped the counter with his fingers.

Dr. Wyatt watched as he inhaled through his nose, considering.

"Come now." He picked up the scotch. "That's not a bad thing, is it?" He poured two fresh glasses and nudged Booth's with his.

Booth's lips curled up in a small smile as he picked up his own glass, clinking it against Dr. Wyatt's in a small toast. "I guess not."


	5. X in the File

**X in the File**

Dr. Wyatt watched as his Sunday morning conversation partner walked into his kitchen. Gone was the normal grin and swagger, and it their place was a frown.

"Good morning, Agent Booth" he nodded.

"Morning" Booth slid into the normal barstool, and when he poured himself a glass of tea, Dr. Wyatt really knew something was amiss.

"You know…" Booth sipped and then frowned, setting it aside without a snarky quip. "I've been thinking. And these… you know…talks or whatever," he motioned between him and the chef. "They've been kind of one sided. Which seems kind of rude. So…is there anything you would like to talk about? I'm a good listener."

Dr. Wyatt sensed that for the first time since they'd begun these casual sessions, Booth might really have something on his mind. But he played it easy for the time being. "Well, I appreciate that, Agent Booth. I don't have much to report, but I did receive a letter from my mother. She's American, if you can believe it, but she lives in London. So we're quite a pair, indeed. But she's come down with a cold, which is unfortunate. I keep telling her to come across the pond as it were, to stay here with me, but she'll have none of it. I suppose that means I'll soon be taking a trip."

He saw as Booth's eyes narrowed in thought, and he leaned against the counter. "But enough about me. Tell me, what have you been up to? Any exciting cases?"

"Chef" Booth answered, without answering the question. "In all your previous work, all your studies and all of that, did you really think that a person's childhood could make a big difference in how they acted as an adult."

Hmmm…interesting. "Well, I must admit that yes, a person's childhood could have bearing on adult actions or interpersonal communications, that sort of thing. It's preposterous, as I'm sure you are aware, to pigeonhole someone into a certain personality trait, based on a common circumstance. Saying…saying something like 'all children who have this or that happen to them will end up in this way or that' that sort of thing…nonsense."

When Booth nodded, Wyatt tapped his own forehead with his finger. "But my question for you is this. What brought this on? Why are you suddenly so curious about this? Has something from your own family--"

"What?" Booth interrupted. "No, no…nothing like that. It's just, well, you know, Bones?"

Dr. Wyatt resisted the urge to say that yes, in fact he was aware of who Dr. Brennan was.

"And…"Booth was continuing, "Her teenage years, all of that, you know all about that?"

"Mostly" Dr. Wyatt nodded. "I know enough of the specifics to have a grasp on the situation, yes. But what…"

"Well, you see…we had this case, you know? In New Mexico, right?" Booth pulled in a deep breath. "And we had to stay there a few nights. Separate hotel rooms" Booth clarified and Wyatt nodded indulgently.

"But one morning, I knocked on her hotel room door, cause we needed to leave soon, right?" Booth's tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he remembered. "And she opened, and her hair…it was still wet. And I don't know…she just looked so young, and kind of innocent, right?" He sighed. "But she said she was almost ready, and I could just wait in her room while she finished up. So, I sat on one of those chairs, you know, the uncomfortable ones? And she's in her bathroom, and I can see from the closet mirrors that she is brushing her hair out as she uses the blow dryer. But then, she kind of looks in the mirror I'm looking at, and she can see that I'm watching her. And she just smiles. And it was so damn…sweet." Booth frowned and leaned back in his chair. "It just cut, right here, you know?" he motioned toward his chest.

"Hmmm…" was all Dr. Wyatt answered.

"And then, later, that night, I figured, you know, Bones should really experience the desert sky at night, right? And so I talked her into lying on the hood of the SUV and we stared up at the stars, and we were just joking and talking about aliens and anthropology, but mostly just laughing. And…she was laughing. And joking, you know? And…" he sighed again. "I don't know. I mean, that had to have been what she was like when she was younger, right? And years of being left or misunderstood…it just…I don't know, It took that away from her, I guess." Booth sighed. "It's like that has to be the real her, right? It's so pure and innocent, and I mean…she was laughing. _Really_ laughing. Do you know what that's like? To hear that? Do you know what it sounds like when she really laughs?"

Dr. Wyatt leaned forward, resting his elbows against the counter. "No. I do not." He answered seriously. "I suspect there are very few people in this world who do. In fact…" he leaned forward just another inch. "_In fact_, I suspect that there is _only one_ person who does."

Booth's jaw worked back and forth and he kept his eyes lowered. "I love her."

"I know." Gordon Gordon nodded after a moment.

Sensing a need for a shift in the mood, he shoved off from the counter. "Have you eaten breakfast?"

Booth looked up then and shrugged a shoulder. "No, not yet. Just haven't been that hungry, I guess."

"I see" the chef grinned and tossed a towel over his shoulder. He turned and opened the refrigerator. "Well, I shall endeavor to fix that."

When he turned around, he saw that Booth had a small smile on his face


	6. Proof in the Pudding

**Proof in the Pudding**

"Come in, come in!" Dr Wyatt called from the sinks as Booth walked into the kitchen. "I hear you've had an exciting weekend so far."

"Oh yeah?" Booth asked, tossing the now standard box of doughnuts onto the counter before removing his jacket. "How'd you hear about that?"

"Ah, the estimable Dr. Sweets was by yesterday."

Booth frowned and held up a hand. "You mean…" he motioned between them. "Like this?"

Dr Wyatt tilted his head to the side as he dried his hands on a towel. "Would that bother you?"

"What? No, of course not" Booth rolled his shoulders back and shoved a hand into his pocket.

"You're lying…" Gordon Gordon laughed. "But what I can't tell is what you're _more_ upset about. The idea that you and Dr. Sweets would share in the need to confide in someone, or the idea that if that were true, he wouldn't confide in you."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

Booth rolled his eyes. "I don't care who Sweets confides in."

"Ah, so that's what you're more upset about." Dr Wyatt sat across from Booth. "Excellently played by me, I might add. But tell me--"

"Oh, no." Booth interrupted. "You're wrong. It's not me who cares what happens to Sweets. That's all Bones. She's the one who is always saying things like 'What about Sweets?' or 'Maybe Sweets wants to come along'. Not me."

"Yes, yes" Dr Wyatt hummed in reply. "So what you're saying is that you intervene on Sweets' behalf because of Dr. Brennan? Because you think it's meaningful to her?"

Booth blew out a breath. "I mean, you know…not like 100% just that. It's not like I hate the kid or anything. He's not too bad, most of the time. If he has something he needed to talk to someone, I would talk to him."

Dr Wyatt looked at him. "What if I told you that young Dr. Sweets was here last night, not for advice, but with his lovely friend…what's her name again?"

"Daisy." Booth supplied.

"Ah, yes. Daisy. What say you to that?"

Booth's lips curved up in a grin, knowing he'd told Dr. Wyatt more than he'd intended. "Then I'd also say well played." He lifted his coffee mug in a salute. "You didn't uh…you didn't tell Sweets about these sessions, did you?"

"Of course not" Gordon Gordon frowned and tapped his teacup against Booth's mug. "Chef's confidentiality and all of that."

Booth laughed and shook his head. "Right. Right."

"I will say however, that Sweets did mention that you were quite the hero and that he thought Dr. Brennan was particularly impressed with what happened."

Booth pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and leaned forward. "Oh yeah?"


	7. Dentist in the Ditch

**Dentist in the Ditch**

"Well…you totally called it" Booth grinned and leaned against the doorway. "You were so right."

Dr. Wyatt looked up from his newspaper and smiled. "That is certainly what every man wants to hear, and now of course you've piqued my interest, and I must know what I was right about."

Booth chuckled and pushed off of the wall, walking forward to sit on his usual seat. "Bones. You were right about Bones. She does believe in love."

Dr. Wyatt tilted his head to the side and smiled in genuine pleasure. "Ah, congratulations are in order, my good man. I am very pleased for you. Tell me--"

"For me?" Booth blinked. "What do you mean?"

"What do _I_ mean?" Wyatt narrowed his eyes. "What do _you_ mean? Perhaps I misunderstood. You see, I thought you said that Dr. Brennan confessed that she in fact does believe in love."

"Yes" Booth nodded. "That's what I said. But I don't see what that has to do with me."

Gordon Gordon looked around the room in shock, as if someone else was there to share in his disbelief.

"What," Booth shrugged. "Bones and I were having dinner with my brother, and his new fiancée, and Bones gave a toast, and she said that when she first met me, she didn't believe that love existed, but now…now she believes. "

"Yes…" Dr Wyatt motioned for him to continue. "And…"

"And, what?" Booth frowned. "That was it."

"_And_…what did you say to that?"

"Me? Nothing."

"Nothing. You said nothing?" Dr. Wyatt asked. "The woman you're in love with, the one you claim is so different from you…she admits, in public, to your family no less, that she believes you when you say love exists. And you said nothing."

Booth shifted in his seat. "Well, we had dinner, and then I drove her home, that's about it."

"I see." Dr. Wyatt frowned and stared at Booth. "I see now that we have been going about this all wrong."

"What?" Booth's head reared back. "Wrong? Going about what wrong?"

Dr. Wyatt continued as if Booth hadn't even answered. "It's my own fault, really…" he murmured to himself. "It hasn't been _that_ long since I gave up psychiatry."

"What are you talking about?"

"Agent Booth, did she say she believes in love, or did she say she believes what you say about love?"

Booth frowned. "What's the difference?"

"The difference" Gordon Gordon insisted. "The difference, my good man, is entirely you."

Understanding flickered over Booth's features, then sharp doubt and insecurity. "Hmmm. Whatever happened to 'hope and patience'?"

Dr. Wyatt barked out a laugh. "Whatever happened to 'grow a set'?"

Booth chuckled and then shook his head. "Nah. I mean, no way. She's just getting the basics, that's all."

"No" Dr. Wyatt shook his head. "Look, you've come to me for advice, and I'm going to give it to you. She's telling you what you've been listening for, but somehow you didn't actually hear it. And it's more than just gratifying to be right. Hell, I was right, and I feel immensely gratified," he bragged. "But for you…it means more. Allow it to mean more. Allow it to mean what it means."

Booth traced an imaginary pattern on the counter top. "Mean what it means, hmmm?"

"Precisely." Dr. Wyatt nodded.


	8. Devil in the Details

**Devil in the Details**

"Ah…" Booth peeled off his wet trenchcoat and sighed as he sank into the barstool. "It is still so nasty out."

"Hmmm…quite" Gordon Gordon nodded, sliding over a small pitcher of milk toward Booth. "Not always good for the restaurant business, I'm afraid."

Booth frowned. "Things are bad? Because listen, you know…Bones…she's pretty important. And she could come here, give a great review, and believe me…people would listen. They'd be standing in line to get in here."

Dr Wyatt smiled and waved a hand. "No need. Although, Dr. Brennan is always welcome here, as you know. Everything is fine. It's more that people who arrive are already slightly annoyed. And do you know what annoyed customers are like?"

"Annoying?" Booth smirked.

"Exactly" Dr. Wyatt opened his hands in Booth's direction. "But come to think of it, I wouldn't mind seeing you here with Dr. Brennan again. It's no secret that you both make an excellent and striking pair."

At this point, Booth knew there was no point in lying. "I almost slipped this week."

"Slipped?" Dr Wyatt's curiosity was piqued. "How so?"

Booth ran a hand down his face. "I came this close to kissing her. In public, too. We were at the diner, like usual, nothing new, and having coffee, and we're just talking about sunrises and faith and numbers and life being good, and she was smiling, and I don't know…it just felt like it was the right moment."

"I see."

Booth looked up with a question in his eyes. "So?"

"Well…so…"Dr Wyatt began to answer. "I don't see how it would be the right moment and a slip up. It has to be either or, correct?"

Booth frowned. "I suppose that's logical." A hint of a smile crossed his lips at his own use of the word logical. "But yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"And how many moments have there been in the past? Moments where you felt it was an opportune time to…how would you put it…lay one on her?"

Booth smiled but looked disgusted at the same time. "What?" He laughed. "I would never put it that way."

"Very well, very well" Dr. Wyatt conceded. "How many times?"

"Honestly" Booth tilted his head to the side. "Impossible to count."

"Ah…interesting. And for each of those times, is it always the same? It always feels as if it would be a slip, but also very, very _right_?"

"No" Booth answered. "not always."

"Not always which one?" Dr. Wyatt clarified.

"Huh?"

The chef smiled. "I mean…do they most always feel like a slip, and sometimes they feel right? Or they don't always feel like they would be a slip up, but there isn't that feeling of…"

"I get it" Booth interrupted him. "Well, I mean…it would be a slip-up, right? Doesn't matter when or where, right?"

"Ah, let me interrupt you" Dr. Wyatt held up his hand. "Is that really true? If you were in the privacy of your own home, and the moment presented itself to kiss Dr. Brennan, and it was meaningful, would it really be a slip up?"

Booth grew silent in thought.

"Let me ask another question." Dr. Wyatt continued. "Even if it were a slip up, is it so unrecoverable of an act that you could never speak to one another again? What is wrong with a little kiss now and again, between friends or partners or whatever?"

Booth's lips tightened. "It wouldn't be like that."

"Like what?" Dr. Wyatt leaned in for more information.

"Casual, you know…it wouldn't be like that. It can't be like that."

"Ah…can't. Hmmm…" he narrowed his eyes.

Booth's eyes narrowed as well. "Okay, okay. What does 'hmmmmm' mean?"

Dr. Wyatt smiled. "It means that it's interesting that you have some sort of idea in your mind of what it will mean to kiss Dr. Brennan, and while you seem to have been presented with certain situations that would allow for that to happen, you have chosen to not let it, because they aren't the right situations. You say it 'can't' be like that, meaning that there is a right and wrong to it all. A right and wrong that goes way beyond your partnership and 'shouldn't' and into some other territory. Something you want to keep in your control."

Booth exhaled deeply. "So what you're saying is that the reason that I didn't kiss Bones, even though it felt right in the moment, that was because I've never kissed her before?"

"Precisely, Agent Booth. You have some idea in your head of a moment when she will say something, or you will say something and the moment will just be 'right' as you say, and you'll lean in and kiss her. But what are you waiting for? What is the moment you are waiting for?"

Booth blinked several times as he took honest stock of his thoughts. "I don't know. I just feel like I'll really know when it's the right moment. Besides…"

When he frowned and trailed off, Gordon Gordon's eyebrows rose. "Besides what?"

Booth bit his bottom lip before replying. "Besides…if I'm wrong about this, then that means that there have been other moments…years of moments that felt right, and actually would have been right. And if I've missed…if we've missed out on those moments, then I'll feel a lot of regret. And I don't want to feel that way."

Dr Wyatt was quiet for a moment. "And very well you should not. Neither you nor Dr. Brennan should feel regret over this. Come now, why listen to me, hmmm? You know best. You know her best. And you'll know the right moment when it happens. But until that moment, do yourself a favor, yes?"

Booth met his eyes and shrugged. "Sure, what?"

"Only this. Stop referring to these moments as either right or 'slip ups'. They are just moments, and there is no reason to give them more or less significance than they are worth, you see?"

Booth's jaw relaxed and he nodded. "Yeah." He nodded again as his mind began to process feelings and memories. He began to think about how he'd categorized certain things. "That makes sense. Thanks."

"Any time" Dr. Wyatt smiled. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

Booth grinned and tapped his forehead. "Well, I have an idea. I'm thinking I just might take Bones out for a nice dinner. Somewhere really, really nice. The nicest place in DC. With a chef who knows what he's doing in the kitchen."

"Ah, preposterous." Gordon Gordon shook his head, but smiled, even as Booth put his trenchcoat back on. "I'll have the table reserved for 8."

Booth grinned and saluted on his way out the door. "8 it is."


End file.
